You Found Me
by popcorn44
Summary: After graduation, Santana disappears and moves to California. No one knows where she is or what happened to her, but after five years, Brittany unexpectedly runs into her again.
1. Chapter One

**Title:** You Found Me

**Rating:** PG-13 for language, definitely to change in the future.

**Author's Note:** This is my first time writing fanfiction in a few years, and my first Brittany/Santana fanfiction. I promise I will get better, so please bear with me, and let me know what you think, what I can improve on, etc. Also, I apologize for the unoriginal title, I'm horrible at coming up with titles. Anyway, enjoy!

**You Found Me: Chapter 1**

My alarm didn't go off that morning. I suppose it didn't matter because I didn't have to be at work until five that night, but it was still nice to wake up on time in my schedule. But because I had worked so late the night before, I ended up sleeping in until three in the afternoon.

I was supposed to meet someone for lunch, but I completely slept through that. I grabbed my phone and texted a quick apology to my friend—girlfriend—no, friend. I didn't know what she was, but I knew I liked her. And she liked me. But nothing was really official yet. I hoped I hadn't fucked things up by sleeping all day. I had barely enough time to shower (I take long showers) and stop for a cup of coffee before leaving from my shitty apartment for work. I didn't really care that my place was shit though. I was affordable enough, and it was in a decent neighborhood, plus it's not like anyone ever came over.

I worked at Mauricio's. It's this diner/bar where, if we want and if we're talented, we would sometimes get to sing on weekends. It's usually just either working the bar or waiting tables, though.

This was just another long day at work. Thankfully I wasn't performing tonight, or else my ass would be way too tired. I was just manning the bar. Though, on a Friday night in Los Angeles, the bar could get pretty damn busy. At least when people stopped coming for food I got a bit of help from my coworkers who were originally waiting tables.

It was around three in the morning when things started to slow down. I usually close up at night, I've been the one to close up for four years. The boss trusts me. Everyone usually heads home around 2:30 when there's only about two customers left.

I was patient with the last customers, it's not like I was in a hurry to get home. I would probably have an earful of angry voicemails because of the date I missed once I was able to check my phone again anyway. I just started cleaning up a bit. I wiped down the bar and a few of the empty tables.

Finally, the last person paid and left and I was alone. It had been a long day, I just wanted to sit for a moment. I was looking down at the bar counter with my head in my hands when I heard the door jingle and footsteps inside. _Damn it_, I thought, _I should have locked the door or switched the sign to closed_.

"I'm sorry, we're closed," I said bitterly without looking up or opening my eyes.

"Santana?"

My eyes shot open. I hadn't heard that name in five years. I hadn't heard that voice in five years. The name that I had almost forgotten. The voice I would always remember.

I thought that if I played it cool and acted like I had no idea what she was talking about she might leave. After all, I did look pretty different from the last time she saw me. My hair was much longer then. Now it was barely longer than a bob. Not to mention the piercings I got (my nose, and a stud in my left ear). I didn't say anything.

"Santana, is that you?" she asked.

"There's no one named Santana here," I quickly reply.

"Santana, I know that's you."

I knew that I couldn't avoid it anymore, so I looked up. My dark eyes met her soft blue ones and I felt my heart break all over again. I didn't let it show for very long though, and quickly changed my gaze to a menacing glare. "We're closed," I said. "Get out."

"Wait, San, don't—"

I didn't let her finish her sentence and stood up in front of the bar to face her. "My name is not Santana. Now for the last time, get out before I call the police!" It was harsh, and I almost regretted lashing out. Almost, but not quite.

Brittany stared at me like she didn't know me at all, which was both true and untrue at the same time. She didn't know me anymore, not for the past five years, but she still knew me better than anyone I had met since then. I had become a very private person after moving to California, and even my friends hardly knew anything about me. Honestly, I didn't even consider them friends. But she knew me well enough to know that she wouldn't get anything out of me (besides possibly arrested) by staying tonight. She kept her mouth shut and backed out the door.

She would probably come back. I knew she would have questions after I had disappeared overnight without a trace five years ago. It was her fault though, so maybe I didn't owe her an explanation. But I would probably end up answering anything she asked, because she had a way of doing that to me, making me compliant.

I suddenly regretted kicking her out. I would have much rather talked to her that night, alone, than with other people around, especially people I knew. I was just shocked. No, actually, shocked was an understatement. The moment I heard her voice again I thought I was going to have a fucking heart attack. It was like seeing a ghost.

I smacked my forehead on the bar, silently reprimanding myself for being so stupid and getting myself into this situation, even though it wasn't my fault at all. In fact, what the hell was Brittany doing there in the first place? Last I had checked, she was studying dance in New York, not Los Angeles. And out of all the bars in LA, she just happened to walk into the one I worked in. That was just my luck.

I focused my attention on finishing closing up. When I was finally outside, walking to my car, I shook my head. She would be back. And knowing Brittany, it would probably be tomorrow, or as soon as possible.

I didn't sleep much that night. I was trying to come up with some shit to say to her to both answer her questions and get her the hell back out of my life.


	2. Chapter Two

**Title:** You Found Me

**Rating:** PG-13 for language, definitely to change in the future.

**Author's Note:** I haven't started the next chapter yet because I'm having trouble with figuring out how to write about Santana's "friend", so let me know if you have any ideas! It might be a while before I post the next chapter, I hope you enjoy this one, and let me know what you think please!

**You Found Me: Chapter Two**

The next morning, or afternoon again I suppose, I woke up to a text message asking to reschedule the lunch I missed for Sunday, the following day. I yawned and replied with a yes. Then I remembered why I was so tired.

Brittany had found me. I didn't know how she found me, I took extra measure to make sure nobody would find me, but I knew I would have some explaining to do.

I spent my entire time in the shower thinking about how the hell she could have found me. I deleted my Facebook account, and all other accounts for that matter. I got a new bank account. I changed my email address. I got a new car. I moved to one of the biggest and most populated cities in the country. I even changed my fucking name. Legally, I was no longer Santana Lopez, I was Anita Perez.

And yet she still somehow found me. But last night, she looked almost as surprised as I was. There's no way that was a random coincidence though. No fucking way.

I sighed as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. A nice, hot shower was all I ever needed to calm down and collect my thoughts, but I still had no idea what I was going to do. "Fuck," I said aloud, and rested my forehead against the wall. I stayed in the shower until the water started to get cold.

It was another busy night at work, but it was all a blur for me. I was behind the bar again, getting people drinks every second. I almost didn't notice when Brittany walked in at 2:30 AM, even if things had started to slow down a little. She just sat at the bar and waited.

People started trickling out, my fellow employees had left, and eventually I had no other choice but to talk to her. "Can I get you anything?" I asked her.

"I'll just have some water, please."

I poured her a glass of water and sat down across the bar from her, waiting for the inevitable interrogation. After a few minutes of silence, the last customer had left. It was just me and Brittany. She spoke first.

"How are you?"

"I—what?" That was the last thing I had expected her to say.

"How are you? I haven't seen you in five years and I'd like to know how you've been doing." After five years she was still the only person who cared enough to ask how I was.

"I… I'm good," I said cautiously. "How are you?"

She didn't answer my question. "What have you been doing here?"

I thought about it. What _have_ I been doing here? Nothing significant, that's for sure. "Nothing really. Just living, I guess."

"How long have you been working here?" she asked. I guess my answers were too vague.

"This was the first job I got when I moved out here," I said. Then, after a moment, I added, "It's nice here, and the pay is decent. I like it."

Brittany smiled a little. "That's good." It was silent for a few minutes. Brittany kept staring at me, and I felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze, so I never looked up at her or met her eyes. It made me feel bad about leaving, but just for a moment before I remembered why I had left. Finally she spoke up again. "Look, San, I don't want to take up too much of your time tonight, I know you must be tired."

"It's not Santana," I reluctantly mumbled. I had forgotten how much I loved it when she called me San.

"What?" She didn't seem to understand what I was saying. She was always pretty slow at catching onto things. I guess that was one thing that hadn't changed about her. I almost smiled.

"My name. It's not Santana anymore. I changed it. Legally." After I said this, she looked…I don't know how to describe how she looked with one word, but it wasn't happy, that's for sure. I knew that she loved my name. She told me that multiple times. One comment she made that I particularly remember was, "I love saying your name during sex, it just feels right." My heart clenched when I thought of the distant memory.

"What is it now? Your name," she said.

I finally looked up and met her gaze. "Anita," I said. "Anita Perez." Even though I had said it countless times in the last five years, the name felt foreign in my mouth when I was around Brittany.

"Anita? Why Anita?" she questioned.

I looked away again. "Maybe I enjoyed being in _West Side Story_ a little more than I thought…" She giggled. It was a heavenly sound that I hadn't heard in far too long. I looked back up and saw her smile, so I pursed my lips to fight back my own smile that was threatening to show.

"San—I mean Anita—can we meet sometime? We have a lot to talk about." I nodded and she continued. "I'm off tomorrow, do you want to get lunch?"

I was about to agree before I remembered I already had plans for lunch tomorrow. With my girlfriend—no, my friend. We had never made anything official. But I did like her. But not as much as I still liked the girl in front of me now. I shook that from my head. No, not anymore, I wouldn't give her another chance. But she did still seem to care about me… But it was her fault I left in the first place.

As I was arguing with myself, I didn't realize I hadn't answered yet. "Um… Santana?" Brittany said, snapping me out of my internal dialogue.

"Oh, um, I can't do lunch, I'm busy," I quickly replied. I didn't bother correcting her on my name, it sounded better like that anyway.

She looked down, disappointed. "Oh, okay, sorry." She sounded heartbroken.

I tried to bite my tongue back, but I couldn't. "I'm free for dinner, though!" I was going to kill myself for that later. I just hated seeing her sad. But I did want to talk to her. I had forgotten how much I loved talking to her. But no, I had to get her back out of my life.

She immediately perked up again. "Really?" she said, with a bright smile.

I closed my eyes, both cursing and praising myself mentally. "Yes, really," I said. "We can meet at Miceli's at seven, it's this great Italian place I know."

"That's awesome, thank you, Santana! I'll see you tomorrow, then! Or I guess it would be tonight." She giggled. Before leaving, she leaned over the counter and gave me a peck on the cheek. I knew she had always been this affectionate, but I was still shocked. My cheeks burned, especially where her lips had touched, and this time, I couldn't hold back the smile that crept onto my lips. It was small, but it was the first time I had smiled in five years.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's note: **I am terribly, terribly sorry for the extremely long wait and for the horrible chapter I have to give you! I had major writer's block, and school started up again, and I also have rehearsal for a school musical every day, so my time to write is very very slim right now. I feel horrible, though, and I'll try to get you a new chapter in the next day or so. I promise it will be much better than this one and will answer some of your questions. For now, here is this, enjoy!

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><p><strong>You Found Me: Chapter Three<strong>

I pulled up in the parking lot in my piece of shit car and went into the restaurant where I had agreed to meet Sarah for lunch, but my mind was still on Brittany. Sarah wasn't there yet, so I waited for her off to the side and became lost in my own thoughts.

I didn't notice when someone's voice started saying, "Anita!" I didn't respond at first. I had gotten so used to Brittany calling me Santana.

"Anita!" she said again. I finally realized that was my name. In front of me was my friend/girlfriend/whatever, Sarah. She was almost a head taller than me, and had long blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. I guess I have a type.

"Sarah! Sorry, I zoned out for a moment," I replied honestly.

"It's fine," she said. "You ready to order?" I nodded, and she grabbed my hand and led me up to the counter.

Ten minutes later, we're sitting at a secluded table in the back corner of the restaurant with our food, and she's talking animatedly about something, and I couldn't pay attention to it to save my life. I barely touched my macaroni and cheese which, yes, is a very lame thing to order on a date, but it's fucking delicious, and Sarah knew very well that it was my favorite food. But I continued to nod at random intervals, hoping she wouldn't notice that my thoughts were entirely elsewhere.

"Anita?" Sarah said. "I just asked you a question."

"What?" I blinked and tilted my head, trying to remember what she had just said.

Sarah sighed dejectedly. "Anita, I'm going to be honest with you here." She paused and stared at me. I nodded, signaling for her to continue. "I like you. You're…interesting, and I like that. And I know that you like me." I nodded, confirming that statement before I could stop myself. She smiled a little. "I really want this—us—to go somewhere."

"I want that too—"

"But that's not going to happen if you don't even try to be interested in what I'm saying."

"I'm sorry. I'm just feeling a little sick, that's all," I lied. I looked down, not out of shame, but so she wouldn't figure out that I was lying.

She became sympathetic. "Oh, I didn't know, I'm sorry. We can do this another time. You should go home and get some rest."

"No, no," I protested. "I already missed yesterday and I feel bad about—"

Sarah cut me off. "Anita, it's fine. You're not feeling well. Just go home and rest. I'll call you later, ok?" She stood up and disappeared, but then came back a few moments later with a box for my food. She emptied my bowl into the container, closed the lid, and grabbed my hand to stand me up. "Let's go."

I didn't say anything as she walked me out to my car, still holding onto my food and my hand. I turned around to grab the box of macaroni and cheese and thanked her.

She smiled. "Just feel better." Then before giving me time to say anything, she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine, just for a moment. "See you later, Perez," she said, with a playful wink.

I just nodded and got into my car and drove away without looking back. I didn't know how I felt or what I was going to do.

All I knew was that the kiss felt nice. I hadn't had a kiss like that since…Brittany. After I left, the most I had was one night stands and meaningless fucking. It was easier without feelings…

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><p>I got to the restaurant twenty minutes early, but stayed in my car. I didn't want Brittany to think that I was actually eager to talk to her or something, even though I really was. God, I was dying to have an actual conversation with her. I had forgotten how much I missed just talking. It was one of my favorite things to do with her. Besides kissing. And fucking. And cuddling.<p>

But I had to clear my head. I was here to answer her questions and get her out of my life. Nothing else.

I waited until I saw her enter the restaurant before I got out of the car. I went inside and found her sitting on the bench, waiting. She saw me before I could say anything to her. "Santana!" she called, and waved me over.

I went over and sat down next to her. "It's Anita," I said. "Are you waiting for a table?"

"No, silly," she replied. "There's plenty of empty tables, I was just waiting for you."

We were led to a table and sat down, then ordered some wine. Before she had the chance to say anything, I asked, "Brittay, what the hell are you doing here?"

She looked taken aback, almost hurt. "I…we were going to talk."

"No, not _here_, here. I mean here in California." I hadn't meant to sound rude before, but I didn't apologize.

"Oh! I got a job!" She was suddenly excited. "I'm the new choreographer at this really high-end dance studio, it's awesome!"

I just nodded. She had a job. That would make it a bit more difficult to kick her out of my life entirely. As long as she wanted to still be in it, she would be difficult to shake off if she was sticking around for a while.

The waiter brought us wine, poured us glasses, then left us with the bottle. As soon as he was gone, I gulped it down and emptied it in a few seconds. Alcohol would make this better. Brittany eyed me cautiously, but I just poured myself another glass.

After a moment of awkward silence, Brittany asked me, "So how did you find this place? It's nice."

Small talk. This was going to be a long night. "I went here for dinner with a friend." That was all I said. I didn't care what she thought I meant when I said friend. Hell, I still didn't even know what I meant. I was here with Sarah last week. That area of my brain was a little foggy, plus the extra fog, considering I was just finishing my second glass of wine. I already knew this was not going to end well.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's note: **I hope this update was quick enough after that extremely long wait I put you through, and I hope it answered some of your questions. I promise I will try to update more often, at least once a week. Thank you for reading and please review to let me know what you think! :)

Also, important notice, rating changes to R, maybe NC17 to be safe, for this chapter.

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><p><strong>You Found Me: Chapter Four<strong>

_June 2012_

_The alcohol burned my throat as I took another shot. And another. And another. Soon they all blurred together and I had no idea what number I was on and my head was foggy and my vision was hazy, but people kept cheering so I kept downing the shots faster than Puck could refill the glass._

_Everyone's eyes were on me, everyone was cheering me on, and I took yet another shot. I looked around smiling, but I noticed a face was missing. Where the fuck was my girlfriend? I only ever do things like this because I know it turns her on to see me so loose and carless, and she'll end up ravishing me in the bathroom or something. So where was she?_

_Puck poured me another shot but I swatted it away. "Where's Brittany?" I asked. He just shrugged and tried handing me the glass again. I pushed it away again and it spilled on his shirt. Before he could yell at me, I took off. I had to find Brittany. We were here to celebrate that we had finally graduated from that hellhole called McKinley and I wanted to celebrate with her._

_I stumbled out of the kitchen of whoever's house this was—I couldn't remember, I was too drunk. She wasn't in the living room. Hm, normally she would just sit on the couch and wait for me when she got tired at parties. Was something wrong? Was she alright? I couldn't stand thinking that something might have happened to her, so I continued my search._

_I knocked on the bathroom door and some guy who was taking a piss told me to go away. I happily obliged; he wasn't Brittany. I went to this other closed door and opened it. It was a bedroom, whoops. And Artie was—hold up, _Artie_? I did a double take and yes, that was Artie. I knew some of the glee kids were here but he was the last one I expected._

_He was sitting on the bed, and his pants were down, and…was that a head between his legs? A blonde head? Fuck, I would know that blonde head anywhere. What the fuck was she doing. No, no, no, this wasn't happening. "Brittany?" I choked out._

_Brittany looked up. Being drunk, I was already emotional. This just threw me over the edge and I started to cry. And for a moment it was like she didn't realize why I was so sad. That just made it worse._

_She suddenly jumped away from Artie, like she only just noticed what she was doing. She was drunk, I could tell the way she could barely pick herself up off the ground. She started walking, well, stumbling towards me. "San…" She reached out to me._

"_Don't touch me!" I shrieked, and swatted her hand away. She tried to say something, probably apologize or explain herself, but I didn't give her the chance. I turned around and bolted out of there. I felt sick, and not just because of all the alcohol._

_I ran outside and sat in my car and cried and cried. Sobs rocked through me and I choked on my salty tears. My whole world had just been pulled out from under me. Brittany was my world._

_I saw her running out of the house to me, so I turned on my car and drove away. Probably not the smartest thing I've ever done, considering that I was drunk and emotionally unstable and couldn't see through my tears. I almost rear ended a car twice, and nearly hit a stop sign, but I made it home safe._

_Before I knew what I was doing, I had a few suitcases open on my bed and I was shoving everything I owned into them. I only left one thing, sitting on the bed: the charm bracelet Brittany had gotten me for my last birthday._

_Soon enough, all the bags were in the back of my car and I was driving out of Lima. I didn't know where I was going, I just needed to get out of there. I was still drunk, and I was still crying, but there were no more tears. It was just dry sobs, which was so much worse._

_I knew I wouldn't make it very far like this, but I headed west and didn't stop until I found a motel to stay the night in that didn't look like I would be murdered in my sleep. I checked in, and headed straight for the bed. I left everything in my car except for a bottle of Advil which I set on the bedside table. I knew I would need that in the morning. As I fell asleep, I thought of all the different places I could go. California seemed nice…_

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><p>Brittany stared at me across the table. I thought I had fixed my heart over time, but now she was just ripping off all the bandages I spent so long placing. I wanted her out.<p>

"Why did you leave me?" she asked.

I laughed. "Are you seriously asking me that? Do you even remember what you fucking did?" I was almost shouting. Over the past few years, I had turned from the emotional drunk into the angry, bitchy drunk. A few other people at the restaurant looked at our table warily.

"Keep your voice down!" Brittany warned. "I just want to know why you thought it was necessary to disappear off the face of the earth! We could have talked about it, San."

"_Don't_ call me 'San'," I hissed. "There was nothing to talk about. You were my entire world, Brittany. You were everything and after you did that, I had nothing. Everyone back in Lima hated me. My own parents didn't even like me! You were all I had and you just had to go and rip out my fucking heart." I tried to keep my voice down but my bitterness was taking over and I didn't know how much longer I would last without blowing up.

Brittany looked down, ashamed, and said in a small voice, "You didn't give me a chance to apologize."

"I wouldn't have forgiven you anyway," I spat back.

"But San—"

"No! Fuck you, Brittany!" I gulped down the rest of my wine (my fifth glass, I think) and stood up to walk away. "I thought I could do this, but I just can't. I don't know how the fuck you found me, but I don't want you around! You lost the right to be part of my life five years ago, and I'm doing just fucking fine without you!" I was definitely shouting now, and people were staring, but I didn't care.

I ran out of there and didn't look back until I reached the door. She looked heartbroken. I almost felt bad. But I continued out of there, got in my car, and drove away. We never even got to order.

I was pretty drunk though, and I lived to far to drive home safely this drunk. I only knew one person who lived nearby and three minutes later, I was banging furiously on the door of Sarah's apartment.

Sarah looked me up and down, concerned, but before she could ask what was wrong I flung my arms around her neck and kissed her furiously. She was shocked, but kissed back after a moment. Her arms snaked around my waist as she pulled me inside and kicked the door shut.

I didn't think through what I was doing, I just did it. I was drunk, after all. And it felt so good to be kissed by someone like they wanted me, like, _really_ wanted me, so I went with it. Before I knew it, we were in her bed, stripping off articles of clothing as quickly as we could while separating our lips as little as possible. A shoe here, a shirt there, and soon enough we were both naked. I pushed her back onto her bed and fell on top of her, our breasts pressing against each other's. I sucked on her neck, and she moaned, moving her fingers to grab my hair.

I wanted things to move more quickly, so with hardly any foreplay, I slid two fingers inside her. I moved against her thigh to get my own satisfaction, and we both gasped and moaned and thrusted. She pulled my mouth down to hers to muffle her scream when she came. I continued moving against her and when I finally reached my climax, everything felt so good but nothing felt right. There was a blonde I couldn't get out of my head, and it most certainly was not the one underneath me.


End file.
